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I’d been wondering what my mom meant when she said she’d seen things. I’ve never heard her so worked up.

Steph got home shortly after myself. It was then that she clarified the static-filled conversation we had as she was driving through the mountain pass toward home.

She told me what had happened before leaving early for the day; how she began to question everything she’s ever believed in, and come full circle.

A child by the name of Robert was feeling ill. From what I’ve heard in the past, this wasn’t unusual. Robert was gone 3 days a week with claims of illness. Those magical days he did show were filled with onslaughts of complaints; I have a headache, my stomach hurts, I can’t stop coughing (he would say with exaggerated loss of speech).

Steph never expected that the boy who cried wolf would be, well…the boy who cried wolf.

Once again, Robert was granted pardon. He knew the path to the nurse’s office well, which came in handy. Steph said that he looked like he was having real difficulty – like he was losing mobility and couldn’t see straight. He bumped into two students on the way to the door. Steph was thinking that if this was the fever, it was working quickly. It was only after everything happened, that she heard the details of the tragic event that took place at Emerald Elementary.

After a brief examination, Nurse Monica knew he should be at home or hospital. She instructed the boy to lie down on the cot as she made the call to his mother, who sounded like she was coming down with the same thing. She then called Stephanie to have a student bring Robert’s backpack to her office.

Given the symptoms, the nurse thought it best to contain what she had diagnosed as MAD flu.

Robert must’ve looked like he had fallen asleep. Worried, she went to check his forehead and was shocked to find a dramatic decrease in temperature. The fever had gone down, that much was certain. The strange thing was that it reduced in a matter of minutes.

Jacob, who was delivering the backpack, approached the glass wall to the nurse’s office. From there, he could see Robert pushing Nurse Monica against the east wall.

Blood sprayed against the glass. As the nurse forced the child away in shock, Jacob realized that she has been bitten. Horrified, he dropped the backpack and ran back to class.

All but one of the secretaries sprinted towards the principal’s office. The attendance secretary, Rose, remained. As she had the only seat not overlooking the nurse’s office window, she went to check on Robert and Monica. Rose gasped as Monica’s cries for help were silenced with a vicious bite to the throat.

Through the principal’s office window, they could see the blood making its way out of the nurse’s office. There was so much blood…pooling under the door and spreading across the floor. Eustace, the principal, dialed the police…and called for a Code Red Lockdown over the intercom.

In her class, Stephanie did her best to keep the kids calm and quiet. Lights were off, doors were locked, and the children crouched under their desks; standard protocol, only this wasn’t a drill.

After the police arrived, Eustace ordered an emergency evacuation until further notice. Stephanie, Jacob, and the office staff gave their statements to the police, who answered with disbelief.

Another danger to be aware of when the zombie apocalypse is among us is Cortord’s Syndrome. This mental illness has the patient believing that they are, in fact, the walking dead. More severe symptoms of this condition might include rubbing themselves with rotting flesh (attempting to mask their scent) and/or attempting to join a zombie horde as one of them.

Linked to Schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, Cortord’s Syndrome stems from an inability to cope with this new world. In a world where death is almost inescapable and you are forced to make decisions that you would have never been faced with before, Cortord’s Syndrome, for some, is that means of coping.

If those suffering from this illness are able to walk with the undead without drawing attention to themselves for any length of time (i.e. constantly maintaining layers of rotting flesh over themselves and joining in devouring the living) they pose quite a threat. Unlike an actual zombie, they do not decompose. This means that their speed and coordination are technically in tact, depending on how much their bodies have succumbed to the belief that they are the undead, picking up their habits and loss of coordination.

Never assume that what you are killing is a zombie. Always be prepared for an attack by a completely coordinated, completely disturbed individual. It is always easier for you to cope, however, if you think of them as such.

There was only one person I could turn to for some perspective; my mom.

My mom is known for being a little reactive in times of almost-crisis; Y2K, the Bird Flu and Swine Flu scares, to name a few. She has, however, been a nurse for over 30 years and a student of alternative medicine for nearly a decade. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the guru of everything medical.

Under normal circumstances (if there have ever been ‘normal’ circumstances), I would be warned to prepare for the worst, followed by rational, yet extreme arguments to explain her reasons for concern. This was a different kind of conversation.

She told me to leave work right away, and that on my way home to pick up ER bars, freeze dried food, and bottled water as I could. I barely had time to ask her what was going on when she said “Please, just listen to me. I’ve seen things that…” her breath stopped, “that you wouldn’t believe. Just get out of there now and make sure Stephanie”, my wife, “does the same. I’ll call you soon to figure out a plan.”

The conversation ended with my compliance. After what I’d heard yesterday…let’s just say I’m not feeling completely comfortable remaining a skeptic. No matter how much I’d like to avoid being caught up in this…well, despite not being able to explain yesterday’s turn of events, there is something…beyond my understanding going on here.

Here at 401AK47.com, we intend to give you the necessary information for planning and surviving the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

401AK47 means to throw away the old sense of the word, investment. We take the obsolete idea of a 401K retirement plan and modernize it with a true sense of preparation and security.

Our name, 401AK47, as it is a symbol of preparation, does not necessarily mean that this particular choice in protection (the AK47), is the optimal go-to in every zombie attack scenario, but a symbol of defense, security and action (one must always consider range, location and comfort level – what weapon, given the previous variables, you feel most comfortable defending yourself and your group with).

You can never be too prepared! Take what you learn here and take the necessary steps to survive. It is because of you, the survivalist, that humanity has any hope of a future that is beyond the zombie uprising.

It dawned on me. Not until this morning did I realize that Aaron, who works with me in our e-commerce department, also trains at that very base that is now quarantined.

I wanted to ask him if he’d seen anything this past weekend that might hint as to exactly what’s going on up there. When he sent an email out last night saying he wouldn’t be in to work due to illness, I assumed he was taking the day off to play the new Call of Duty (his own personal crack). After a long weekend on base, what better way to relax is there, than to slaughter unsuspecting human beings?

Figuring he was in perfect health, I called his cell to ask about the containment, if he’d seen or heard anything. That’s when a woman answered the phone. It was his mom. She had mentioned that he had been hospitalized several hours ago with fever, which took me by surprise.

I will never forget what I heard after that; a man in agony…a dying friend in the background of the line. Seconds later, the room went quiet, and a chill shot down my spine. The fever had killed him.

The phone on the other end dropped to the hospital bed. The next sound was her sobbing.

Then came the screams.

I can only describe what I heard as the tearing of flesh. Not just flesh…the sound of living tissue being ripped apart, followed by a gag and a gurgle against the speaker of the phone.